Heart Of A Vampire - Valmont's Trinity Part 8

Love for the vampire, who'd stayed loyal to him for over six hundred years in the face of every opposition, overwhelmed him. It was probably this pa.s.sion-Serge's absolute burning devotion-that had made Philippe fall for Serge so hard, so fast. Well, that and the fact that Serge was devastatingly s.e.xy.

Valmont couldn't blame Philippe for that and, in spite of any jealousy he felt, could raise no objection to Serge's having such a devoted lover. "Serge," he said softly, wanting to comfort his dear friend. He patted the s.p.a.ce on the bench beside him.

Serge stopped in his tracks. Obediently, he came and sat down. Valmont took his hand and laced their fingers together. He leaned into his friend and placed a tender kiss on Serge's stubbled cheek. The odor of blood and of zombies clung to Serge's skin and hair, as did the scent of his grief. There was nothing else he could say to comfort him and certainly nothing he could do to save Philippe.

The door opened and Darelle emerged. Her guardians, Gareth and Kane, loomed behind her, never more than a few feet away from her at all times. Darelle's tumbling honeyed curls stood out against the white, alarmingly bloodstained smock she wore. Fortunately, however, she also wore a smile.

Serge launched off the bench. "How is he?"

Darelle reached out and lightly grasped his arm. "He's alive now."

"Now?" Serge's blue eyes widened, his expression stricken.

Valmont moved up behind him and gently clapped a supportive hand on his lover's shoulder. "Darelle, tell us."

She nodded. "Oui. He was dead when you brought him to me, but fortunately, he was still in the window of time when a transfusion would revive him. His punctures have all healed and he will recover fully in a few days." Her smile faded somewhat and she released Serge's arm. "But before I let you in to see him, I must warn you that the true wounds he suffered were to his emotional state. He was betrayed by one of his own and brutalized." Her smile returned, warming her green eyes. "He will need so much love to heal." Her gaze flickered to Valmont's and she smiled at him as well. "As much as can be given."

Valmont's insides jumped at the eye contact. His...heart, such as it was, would never forget how much he'd loved her and still did. But he had Serge now...and Philippe. Perhaps he didn't have the same pa.s.sion for Philippe as he did Serge, but he was eternally gratefully to him. Both of them needed his love. "Darelle, may we see him now?"

She nodded. "Of course. This way." She opened the door and stepped aside. Serge went in immediately, but Valmont hesitated as he pa.s.sed Darelle. "Thank you...for everything."

A shy look stole into Darelle's eyes. "You're welcome." She gestured to the interior of the room and he went in. Darelle and her guardians stepped out and closed the door behind them.

Philippe was in a bed, the covers up to his neck. An IV with a bag of blood still dripped into his arm and a monitor showed his heartbeat. He still looked battered and listless, but at least he was no longer covered with blood and puncture wounds.

Valmont approached the bed and looked down into Philippe's half-opened eyes. Serge was perched on the edge of the bed, one of Philippe's hands in his.

"See, Valmont?" Serge said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "Darelle saved him. He's going to be all right."

He smiled and sat in a chair by the bedside on the opposite side to his friend. "I do see. I'm very, very glad and grateful, Philippe, because I was really hoping that you would want to come and live with us-with Serge and me-when you recover."

Valmont saw Philippe's eyes widen slightly at his suggestion. Philippe's bottom lip quivered and he realized that the CE might be having difficulty speaking. Understandable, considering he'd been drained of his life force earlier that evening by a houseful of brutal zombies.

Philippe could only stare at Valmont. Serge held his hand and was squeezing it gently.

Philippe, forgive me. I'm so sorry. I should never have spoken to you that way. Serge's expression radiated grief.

He didn't answer right away. Couldn't.

Philippe had felt so betrayed, so hurt. Never in his life had someone else's opinion of him mattered so much. Of course, in his acting days, he'd wanted to be adored and critically acclaimed, but on a personal level, he'd never cared...until now.

Dahlia's betrayal, however, had cut even deeper. The fact that she'd accepted money and used Philippe's weakness to her advantage, allowed him to be murdered in cold blood, made Philippe feel as if there were no reason to go on. Even knowing Serge cared about him didn't help. Serge didn't love him as he loved Valmont. Regard and affection did not go far enough to outweigh his complete sense of despair and make him feel there was something else to live for in a world where beings were capable of the most heinous crimes.

Still he remained silent, knowing that if he expressed these things, Serge and Valmont would only try to convince him he was wrong to feel as he did and he couldn't feel any other way but despairing. He'd always felt indignant over cruelty and betrayal, and now that it had happened to him in this way, he felt its full impact.

Finally, he knew it was rude not to say something. I very much appreciate your kindness, Valmont. You both saved me and I'll always be in your debt.

"Does this mean you accept?" Valmont asked out loud.

He blinked and heaved a sigh. I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I cannot go back there and live with you.

Serge stared down at Philippe. Philippe's refusal of the offer left him bereft. He'd never expected to experience such emotions over anyone besides Valmont, but here he was...unbelievably pained that Philippe didn't want to stay with him.

In a mere few days, Philippe had become his companion, someone who comforted him, shared pleasure with him, showed devotion, someone of his very own.

Serge glanced up at Valmont, hoping his friend would have an answer.

But Valmont looked back at Serge, urged him with his facial expression to speak openly to Philippe. "If you'll both excuse me," Valmont said. He rose from his chair, "I'll go see how Cherry is doing." With a nod, he turned and left.

He turned back to Philippe, his insides trembling. "Philippe, I was so wrong with the things I said to you. I acted monstrously and I beg your forgiveness. Nothing I said was true. I was jealous and took it out on you."

Philippe squeezed his hand as best he could. He loved Serge and forgave him wholeheartedly, of course. He, himself, had said regrettable things to others in his own times of jealousy and anger.

"You forgive me, don't you?" Serge's blue, almond-shaped eyes misted over and he looked near hysteria.

Of course. Don't worry another moment.

Serge's face relaxed visibly, but the distress did not leave his eyes. "Then why? Why won't you come and live with us?"

He looked at Serge, studied and searched the vampire's eyes for any trace of dissembling. He found none. At least...he hoped. Serge, I'd love to be with you, but right now, I don't even want to be alive. There, he'd admitted it. He'd never been able to hold in anything for long. Perhaps it was a result of being a stage actor for so many years. He'd reached a point where he couldn't remember whether he was in character anymore or just himself. Emotions were emotions whether on stage or off and he tended to blurt them out.

Alarm filled those almond-shaped blue eyes. "Oh no, please, don't feel that way." He paused, seeming to study Philippe's face. "Is it because of what happened? In that house, I mean?"

He nodded. The movement was small, but he saw his response register in Serge's expression. I don't feel I can go on in a world so very brutal.

Serge heaved a deep sigh and squeezed his hand. "I felt that way for over six hundred years, Philippe, every moment of Valmont's captivity. You know what happened. I waited outside the chateau walls while my lover was chained inside being tortured every day. I wanted to die too, but I kept going and now...thanks to you...he's healed and we're together again. I promise, you won't always feel this way. If I could die from failing a promise, I would risk it here." He looked down briefly, giving Philippe the sense he was preparing to say more and that it was difficult for him.

When he looked back up, his blue eyes were piercing. "Philippe, don't make me go on without you."

Philippe stared. His heartbeat increased. The beeping of the monitor registered the change, the tiny sounds beating closer together. Nothing else Serge had said, or could say, convinced him as that statement had. Another moment pa.s.sed with their gazes locked and then he nodded. He smiled, his first since he'd seen Serge in the kitchen that morning before their fight.

All right, Serge, he said. He wished so badly he could speak the words out loud. I won't.

Three days later

"This room is all for you, Philippe." Valmont released his arm, letting him lean on Serge completely. Both of them had helped him up the stairs since he was not quite up to full strength. Ironic, considering Valmont had been the one needing such a.s.sistance only a short time before.

Philippe pulled gently away from Serge's grasp and stood in the doorway, leaning on the heavy doorframe. Unshed tears stung his eyes.

The bedroom was huge, like the others. It, too, had French doors leading to a balcony. The curtains, sheer in a leopard pattern, lifted in the breeze. Beautiful rugs in more animal prints covered the stone floors and potted palms flanked the doorways. The bed, however, was the best part. The heavy four-poster was covered in luxurious duvets and pillows, all in exotic animal prints. Exactly the style he would have chosen for himself.

"Not a gold thread in the place and no animals had to die to decorate this room," Valmont said.

He turned, looking first at Valmont then at Serge. "Thank you both. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me."

"You're very welcome," Serge said.

He moved deeper into the room. Cozy yet exotic. Delicious. Even in his heydays of theater, he'd never had digs as glorious as these.

His gaze fell on the bed, large, soft and inviting. He could immediately picture himself, naked, under its covers, flanked on either side by a gorgeous, equally naked vampire...

He sat on the bed and bounced several times, testing the mattress. Of course, the mattress sank down underneath him. He couldn't wait to test it out for real.

"Is it comfortable?" Valmont asked.

He grinned. A bit of his old enthusiasm for life seeped back into him. Surely, when there were beings as s.e.xy and as caring as Serge and Valmont, there was something to live for. Something really wonderful. "Why don't you both come and test it out for yourself?"

Valmont's grin faded slightly. "Only if that's what you truly want, Philippe. You're not a servant, or a...slave...you know. I hope you realize that."

Philippe looked at him, then at Serge. Serge's blue eyes rested on him, his expression hopeful yet a bit sad. Just looking at their faces turned him on. "Yes, it's what I want. I'll be honest with you, I've...served in my way for so long, I can't honestly know what I'd do otherwise. But," he looked at Serge, feeling the same love and devotion that had overcome him from the beginning, "I do know I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world."

His statement was rewarded with a smile curving Serge's lips. The sadness vanished from those blue eyes and he approached the bed.

Philippe smiled back at him, toed off his shoes and climbed onto the bed. He settled on his back in the middle. In moments, Serge and Valmont were stretched out on either side of him, their bodies pressed close to his.

Valmont chuckled. "Yes, I'd say this bed is d.a.m.n comfortable. Serge, you chose very well."

"Only the best for Philippe." Serge slipped a hand into Philippe's, and interlaced their fingers.

Philippe smiled and reached for Valmont's hand. His whole body tingled from the closeness of a s.e.xy vampire on either side of him. "Oui," he agreed, "It's the most comfortable bed I've ever lain on." In moments, the tingling intensified. The pleasant sensation traveled up Philippe's arms and down his legs, and his c.o.c.k stirred and started to get hard. To his shock, the desire to be fed upon rose. He'd thought that after that night with the zombies, he'd never want to feel a pair of fangs in his skin again. Wrong.

Valmont's and Serge's musky scents mingled in the air, causing his heart to pound and his mouth to water.

Serge suddenly turned onto his side, facing him and squeezed his hand affectionately. "Philippe, you never have to feed either of us if you don't want to." His voice was husky and Philippe sensed his lover's mutual hunger. "We don't feed you."

He grinned. "How could you feed me? You're vampires." He leaned into Serge, breathed in his scent of male musk and aftershave. Ripples of desire went through his c.o.c.k. His b.a.l.l.s tightened in response to Serge's masculine aroma. "I don't want what happened with those zombies to ruin anything for me. Being fed on, especially by you and Valmont, has been one of the greatest pleasures I've ever known."

He turned onto his back again and tilted his chin up. "Both of you, please, feed together on me. We'll be bonded, all three of us as lovers, always."

"Philippe, are you certain?" Valmont's voice was thick with need.

He nodded. "Oui, I'm positive."

Serge leaned in. "I'll do whatever you wish," he whispered and nipped Philippe's earlobe gently.

Mmm, what a feeling.

He slipped his hand under Philippe's shirt and trailed his fingertips up the center of Philippe's stomach to his chest. Serge gently explored Philippe's skin and caressed his nipples, which tightened on contact.

Philippe closed his eyes, drunk merely from Serge's touch.

Valmont undid Philippe's trousers and tugged them gently down to his knees. A grin spread across Valmont's lips. "Our friend doesn't wear underclothes, Serge."

Philippe's already hard c.o.c.k sprang up, close to Valmont's face. Valmont reached out and palmed the shaft, stroking it deftly.

Hands touched him, caressed him everywhere and his eyelids fluttered. He moaned softly and Serge caught his sound with a soft kiss, slipped his tongue sensuously between Philippe's lips. Serge still toyed underneath Philippe's shirt, gently pinching and caressing Philippe's nipples as he kissed him.

As Serge's kisses grew wilder, the heated swirl of his tongue matched the rhythm of Valmont's hand on Philippe's c.o.c.k. He felt drowned in pleasure and groaned softly when Valmont's lips touched his inner thigh, and feathered his tongue on the sensitive skin, obviously searching for the spot he would feed upon. What a delightful place to feed. He spread his legs wider, giving the vampire all the access he would need.

Serge pulled his lips from Philippe's and rained small soft kisses down his chin and over his throat. Resting his lips in one spot, he flicked the tip of his tongue over the supple skin, sending shivers of pleasure through Philippe's body. Philippe moaned and tilted his head back farther, aching to feel the pierce of Serge's fangs.

As if working in sync, Serge and Valmont both sank their canines into him at the same time. He cried out softly. Every nerve ending along his skin exploded with o.r.g.a.s.mic tingling. At once, the vampires' fangs slid out and they closed their lips over the punctures, gently sipping and suckling his blood.

Each rhythmic tightening of their lips sent more pleasure cascading through his body. To Philippe's delight, Valmont continued caressing his c.o.c.k, collecting the drops of seed oozing from the tip with his thumb and smoothing them over the head.

Philippe wound his hand in Serge's soft hair, feeling the small movements of his head as he drank. Nothing had ever felt so pleasurable in his entire existence.

At the same time, Valmont and Serge lifted their lips from Philippe's skin and licked the punctures with soft strokes of their tongues. His flesh sealed up immediately, leaving him in a pleasant languor, his eyes half-closed, while he stroked Serge's hair. It was always difficult to move after being fed on, so he rested quietly, enjoying the tingling aftermath of the double feeding.

Philippe tasted absolutely delicious. Valmont rested his cheek on Philippe's thigh. No other being's blood had ever made him feel so incredibly nourished. Philippe's c.o.c.k, still mostly hard, rested against his palm. The musky scent of the hard shaft made his mouth water again and he lifted his head from Philippe's thigh and closed his mouth over the plump, mushroom-shaped head.

Philippe sighed as Valmont slid his mouth lower, swallowing up the delicious c.o.c.k almost to the hilt. With his hand, he cupped the firm sac of Philippe's b.a.l.l.s, squeezing it gently as he lapped up that incredible c.o.c.k and every drop of pre-c.u.m that oozed from it.

Serge lay down next to him, between Philippe's spread legs. Valmont lifted his mouth from Philippe's c.o.c.k and kissed his other lover. Their lips lingered together, tongues softly dueling while Valmont stroked Philippe's c.o.c.k in lazy, gentle strokes.

Serge pulled away from their kiss, his full lips swollen, eyelids heavy. A lazy grin curved his mouth and he appeared happy, fulfilled, the way he used to when he and Valmont had first become lovers.

Valmont's heart surged to see the earnest, pa.s.sionate lover he'd known since the Middle Ages. He grinned back.

Serge leaned forward, moving so that his mouth was close to Philippe's c.o.c.k, which rested in Valmont's hand. Serge licked the length of the shaft, from the base to the tip.

The sight of Serge's tongue against the silky reddish skin of Philippe's c.o.c.k made Valmont crazy with hunger. When Serge reached the head, he took it in his mouth, eyes closed and stayed there, licking and suckling greedily.

Valmont reached out and smoothed back Serge's hair. His mouth watered to taste Philippe's c.o.c.k some more himself and to pleasure the immortal-vampire-whatever he was-who'd healed him and helped to reunite him with Serge. Leaning down, his face close to Serge's, Valmont teased the firm sac of Philippe's b.a.l.l.s with the tip of his tongue, licking and stroking in feathery circles while Serge engulfed the length of Philippe's c.o.c.k in his mouth.

Together, he and Serge pleasured Philippe who moaned continuously and bucked his hips softly against their two mouths.

Valmont closed his lips over one ball, then the other while his fingertips caressed Philippe's tight hole. Philippe was gasping, whispering, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over. Valmont felt Philippe's delicious b.a.l.l.s tighten under his tongue.

He pulled away and watched Serge suck Philippe's c.o.c.k. His dark head bobbed up and down furiously as he deep-throated Philippe.

Philippe grasped bunches of the comforter in his fists, his head thrashing back and forth on the pillows. His hips arched up off the bed once and remained suspended and he moaned, eyes squeezed shut.

The sight was glorious and Valmont watched the muscles in Serge's throat work as he swallowed Philippe's c.u.m.

Philippe groaned and went limp on the bed. His heaving chest gleamed with sweat and his aqua-hued eyes were dusky as he stared at both of them. "That was incredible," he breathed. "You must let me do the same for both of you." Without waiting for a response, he started to kick his trousers off the rest of the way.